SAW: Kill or No Kill
by Dan Bivens
Summary: JUST FOR FUN: What would happen if Jigsaw hosted his own sick version of a popular game show? CAUTION: EXTREME VIOLENCE & LANGUAGE
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

"We'll be on-air in another five minutes, Mr. Kramer, sir," said the ever-eager young director wannabe, Gabriel Spitz, wrongly ejected from New York's renowned NYU Film School because of a jealous lie told by a fellow film student not wanting such stiff competition to continue.

John Kramer silently nodded, while sitting before a large illuminated mirror in the makeshift green room of the surrogate TV studio that used to be an ex-soap factory. One used for the filming of movies that were R-rated productions.

Then he replaced the oxygen mask, attached, naturally, to a hospital-type tank, before finally removing it in order to respond in a frighteningly harsh voice halted by hacking coughs, "Tonight, Mr. Spitz…you shall realize…your highest achievement. Far greater…than anything that…a mere film school…would've demanded. Tonight…you graduate…to greatness."

Gabriel fell all over himself over such a sinisterly delivered compliment, while his own personal lust for bloody vengeance grew ever-stronger within a heart blackened by a hard-luck life that would now, thanks to John, achieve a level none could comprehend.

"Th-thank you, s-sir," he said even as an unseen someone spoke to him via his standard studio headset. "Right. Mr. Kramer, sir, Amanda says th-the contestants are in p-place. Almost time."

"Start the theme music," said John after taking one last taste of oxygen via the clear mask in his too-pale hand. "I shall be out…once she introduces me…to our viewing…public."

"C-certainly, sir," said the bespectacled, criminally compliant little man with larger-than-life fantasies, just as he swiftly exited the green room set up for the sole star of tonight's televised festivities.

"Show time," convulsively coughed the white-haired, ashen-skinned killer even as he slowly, devilishly lifted the black, redlined hood of the matching robe over his head and shakily stood, struggling against the constant pain racking his ravaged-by-cancer Self.

Then the theme music started: something suggestive of any number of game shows that had so dominated the meager minds of television viewers so starved for titillation that they would devour whatever the networks tossed onto their large plasma screens.

Such as his game show tonight.

One that, for the first time in his blood-soaked life, would be transmitted via special pirate signal that, ingeniously, would insinuate its heinous images onto all cable channels.

Whether fifty or five hundred.

END OF CHAPTER 1


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

"Welcome to the newest game show craze," began a psychotically smiling, over-the-top Amanda Young, "and I do mean 'craze'. The only TV game format guaranteed to either end with one winner…or lots of bloody losers."

Even as Director Gabriel Spitz, serving in a variety of television type roles, activated controls creating "canned applause", he found Amanda's harlequin-heavy make-up and glittery gown somehow suitable.

"And now," said a wild-eyed, equally insane and bloodthirsty, Amanda Young after glancing to one side of the makeshift stage to make certain he was shuffling forth. "The star of our show. The Emcee of Murder. The Practitioner of Revenge. I know him as John Kramer. You know him as…the Jigsaw Killer!"

Again, Gabriel cranked up the "canned applause" even as a vicious villain, to many, but vigilant deliverer of Justice, to such as Amanda Young and, now, Gabriel Spitz, lumbered along in his black hood-and-robe, red-lining very visible, to stop and stand directly before the actively transmitting TV camera.

Then, while Gabriel gradually abated the artificial applause, John Kramer a.k.a. Jigsaw Killer lifted his deathly pale head as equally pale hands hauled off the hood so he could look directly into said transmission camera.

A strangely flagitious game host said with a sinister smirk, "I would like to welcome you all to my little extravaganza that I have duly dubbed…Kill or No Kill."

Completely on cue, Gabriel, playing the part of director as well as cameraman, sound effects technician, and any number of other roles traditionally held in any similar television setting, momentarily applied "canned laughter" followed swiftly by "canned cheers" merged with more "canned applause".

Holding up a single deathly pallid hand as if to silence a nonexistent audience, the droopy-eyed Jigsaw Killer, the most brilliant to ever emerge from the muck of Man's inhumanity to Man, proceeded to explain.

"For those of you involved with law enforcement…who think they might track down our little transmitting site…I can save you the time. The electrical and computer equipment being employed have not only stolen satellite signal for this all-channel melodrama of murder…but we have created a complex series of false signals meant to make us appear to be transmitting from some six dozen sites throughout the continental United States. Long before you find the real transmitting site…we shall be long gone…and our contestants, for the most part, quite dead. Save, possibly, for one. The winner of…Kill or No Kill."

While a hacking cough claimed, for the moment, the madman/genius, Gabriel, at Amanda's silent insistence, covered such with some more "canned applause". Then…

"And now," said Jigsaw Killer, hood hanging down his stooped-from-pain back, as he gestured elsewhere within the studio-like set, "let's meet our contestants."

It was now time for Gabriel to man the camera in order to professionally follow the genius granting him his bloody bid for filmmaking immortality. Taking care to perfectly frame each of the three so securely held in three very special seats. All three properly gagged until it was time for them to truly articulate their selections.

END OF CHAPTER 2


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

"First we have Nikki Cavenaugh," said a hoarse-voiced, somewhat wheezing Jigsaw as he gestured toward a scantily clad young red-haired woman firmly affixed to one of three torture contrivances. "Nikki comes from a fine family. She had all the advantages many never receive. Yet she still allowed herself to succumb to drug addictions for no other reason than to 'have fun'. Now she must prostitute her supple young body in order to 'score' her next 'fix'. Her purgatory rig, one of three that might well be used this night, will, if she fails to choose wisely, thrust open her thighs…which she has done hundreds of times for meager amounts of money spent on narcotics…and forcefully penetrate a part of her anatomy already ravaged by sickeningly assorted sexual encounters."

Jigsaw slowly lumbered along, past the struggling, straining, crying young Nikki, her gag…a basic ball-attached-to-tight-strap sold in any sex shop…preventing her from fully pleading for any semblance of mercy.

A mercy for which she had evidently denied to her own Self.

Moving now, with Gabriel following with the camera rig, Jigsaw stood next to the second of three persons selected for this evening's eventual torture. Unless said victim turned out to "win" the ignoble game.

"Our next contestant is Daniel Locke," wheezed Jigsaw by way of another introduction, "the privileged child of prominent parents who'd done all they could to instill within him some sense of self-pride and self-reliance. But Daniel has chosen a more slovenly path of partying with people he thinks of as friends, but who were really only using him for the steady stream of cash to which he seemed to always have access. Daniel's purgatory rig is designed to forcefully insert, at roughly a hundred miles-per-hour, a literal silver spoon through teeth and mouth…inevitably impaling itself through the base of his skull, thus severing his spinal cord. His death would be as slow as his party-life was fast. Unless he chooses wisely."

Daniel Locke was a handsome young man, blonde hair, blue eyes, in his early-twenties whose ball-gag would be removed once that part of this torturous contest was reached as the rest of him remained unmoving against the sadistic seat's restraints.

Now Jigsaw, wheezing with each shuffling step and wincing with each hacking cough, stopped before the final individual pre-chosen to participate in tonight's festivities and said, "Finally, we have Laslo Saban. Unlike the other two, his was a life of loss and sorrow as his parents had died when he was nearly nine years old, forcing him to subsist on the streets. His sin was in too quickly becoming a purveyor of various narcotics for the rich and privileged to purchase in order to ruin their easy existences.

"In fact, Laslo's connection in tonight's entertainment involving Nikki Cavenaugh and Daniel Locke is simple. He was the first to supply life-destroying drugs to each of them and continued to do so with no sign of a conscience or the simplest desire to drag himself out of the mire through hard work and at least some self-pride. His purgatory rig, should he make the wrong choice this evening, will forcefully introduce a dozen dull, dirty hypodermic needles deep into his neck from all conceivable sides. Then simultaneously inject him with murderous amounts of as many narcotic concoctions such as he has so readily distributed. His demise shall be, at first, agonizing and, then, gradually granted a peace he has stolen from such as Nikki and Daniel."

All three continued uselessly struggling against restraints tightly holding them to their respective seats. Sweat glistened on their fear-racked faces, while muffled pleas for mercy via ball-gagged mouths fell on deaf ears. As the roughly coughing, heavily wheezing Jigsaw shuffled back to the opposite end of the trio of potential victims.

"And now, my dear," said Jigsaw to Amanda, stepping next to several numbered briefcases of dull aluminum from which these three would be forced to select. "Are you ready to begin our game?"

"I'm ready, Jigsaw!"

END OF CHAPTER 3


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Now turning toward the three struggling, sweating, straining to speak contestants, Jigsaw proceeded to forcefully yank out the ball-gag from Nikki's mouth.

"No, please, stop," Nikki cried and pleaded. "You don't have to do this. I'll stop using. I'll stop. I swear I will. Please. Please."

"I'm sorry, my dear," the devious designer of death-dealing devices that had been much more ingeniously complex than currently incorporated into the three purgatory rigs previously introduced to a TV-viewing public glued to their respective sets in millions of homes across the country. "You had your chances to stop using…as well as being used…far too many times in the recent past. You must now choose. Simply pick one of the cases and my beautiful assistant shall open it. If you are lucky and pick a case with the words 'No Kill' in it…you will be spared and returned to your life of luxury and leisure in order to set right all that you had done wrong. If, however, you pick a case with 'Kill' in it…"

There really was no need to finish the statement as such an agonizing eventuality, should she select poorly, brought forth more tearful pleas from the young red-haired Lady-of-the-Evening.

Pleas which still continued to fall on deaf ears.

"Choose!" snapped a still-wheezing Jigsaw. "Or else I shall kill you just as slowly. By choosing, you have a chance…otherwise…"

"Okay, okay," Nikki panted while sniffling and shivering from the shock of such an impossible situation. "I…I ch-choose…n-number…twelve. I choose twelve. Oh, God, please…please, please, please…"

Gabriel turned the TV camera toward Amanda and the aluminum, numbered, cases even as she smilingly made her way to the one with the number "12" stenciled onto it. Then, playing it up again in the same manner as such pretty "presenters", proceeded in promptly opening it.

Inside it said…

"Kill," said Jigsaw even as the shock of such sent shivers through the red-haired lady who'd so destroyed her life long before tonight, as a flood of fearful tears rolled down mascara streaked cheeks while fully unable to verbalize any final pleas. "I'm sorry, Nikki…you did not choose wisely."

Thumbing one of three control buttons on a small remote suddenly held in a pale-skinned hand…

"Nooooooo—"

Shhhhh-Spluk!

Death gradually followed the agonizing piercing of not only Nikki Cavenaugh's vaginal area, but the majority of her fully laid bare abdominal area as well. Thus allowing not only buckets of blood and uterus material to spill forth, but her entire intestinal tract as well.

A sickening end to a misspent adolescence.

END OF CHAPTER 4


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5/CONCLUSION

Needless to say, Daniel Locke and Laslo Saban struggled and screamed, via muffled-by-ball gagged mouths, much more furiously than before after witnessing such a gory result of an unlucky selection of cases.

Daniel even began to piss himself as Jigsaw shuffled for him, while an insanely grinning Gabriel followed along with his TV camera rig.

After forcefully removing the ball-gag, such caused similar sobbing pleas to issue forth from Daniel, "Please, let me go. I'll pay you anything you want. Everything you want. Just don't do this. Please, don't do this. Please."

"You still have not learned, dear Daniel, that money cannot necessarily solve all your problems," said the hoarse voice of Jigsaw as he next gestured in the direction of Amanda and the remaining numbered aluminum cases. "Choose, Daniel…and, perhaps, you shall leave alive."

Knowing there was no way to get out of his current dire straits, an openly weeping, and emotionally feeble, Daniel Locke stammered, "Uh, t-ten. I ch-choose t-ten."

While Daniel silently asked a God he'd never recognized during his perpetual partying for a miracle, Jigsaw gestured toward Amanda, even as Gabriel's camera turned in that direction, and said, "Open Number Ten!"

Once again stalling just as long as such "presenters" did so incessantly on actual TV game programs, the harlequin-like Amanda dropped open the case to show…

"Kill," said a slightly smiling, in a vile villain-like manner, Jigsaw prepared to push the second of three remote control buttons. Even as the screaming-for-mercy, tear-drenched, open-mouthed countenance of Daniel Locke was suddenly forced shut. A split-second later, the silver spoon, sizeable in both length and width, shot forward far too fast to follow. Swiftly shattering clenched teeth in a bloodily painful fashion before protruding out through the base of his blonde-haired head.

While a gradually dying youth seized sporadically in his seat, now drenched in blood, teeth, and tissue, before inevitably staring out with finally lifeless eyes…

It was at last time for Jigsaw to step up to the third and final forced-to-participate contestant, struggling vainly against seat restraints while evidently attempting to tell this robed murderer where to shove these last cases.

Finally, some semblance of self-defining decision on behalf of a friendless orphaned individual who'd dealt life-draining drugs instead of seeking to increase his personal knowledge and work for a brighter future.

But, like Daniel and Nikki, both bloody corpses who'd suffered tremendously in the scant seconds it took to take Death's unseen hand in order to arrive at final, lasting peace…

"Choose," said Jigsaw amidst wheezing, hacking coughs after roughly removing Laslo's ball-gag.

With an intensity and defiance indicated by neither Nikki nor Daniel…

"I choose…Number Three, you cowardly cocksucker!"

"Amanda, my dear?"

Again playing it up for Gabriel's rotated around camera, broadcasting bloody deaths to a captive American audience no doubt unable of simply looking away or switching off said displays, Amanda finally allowed the case's covering lid to drop and reveal…

"No Kill!" relayed the robed Jigsaw Killer as he turned drooping eyes and ashen-skinned scowl toward a suddenly relieved Laslo Saban. "Congratulations, Laslo. You win. And your prize will be a second chance. To stop dealing in drugs. To do something with your life of loss and loneliness. But, should you squander such a second chance…"

Now Jigsaw leaned uncomfortably close to the still-restrained, but madly laughing because of his choice in cases Laslo Saban, and completed the sinister statement, "I will bring you back…and, this time, there'll be no more choices."

Slipping the remote control into a secretive pocket of the black, red-lined, robe while slowly pulling its hood back over a white-haired head, with both Gabriel Spitz and Amanda Young in his slow-walking wake, Jigsaw said, "There is a timed lock release in your rig, Laslo. In exactly sixteen minutes…you will be free. Make the most of your second chance. Or else."

All three having left to climb into some unseen van, while leaving everything else behind, Laslo lost it and commenced crying. From not only his winning choice that had granted him a second chance, but from the extreme tension produced when facing such an agonizing demise after witnessing the sickeningly bloody deaths of two of his most steady "customers".

Laslo, for the first time in his miserable little existence, since the death of a family he'd loved so completely as an innocent child loosened onto the despicable city streets, actually believed that he could struggle for something worthwhile.

And, maybe, believe in miracles at long last.

END


End file.
